Mum gives everything – and reaps abudantly
Life has a way of igniting happiness, even in situations when we ask ourselves if it is worth living.
But, with the risk of sounding philosophical, I have learnt out of experience as a mother that if we look for something to be appreciative of in life, we are bound to find it.
When growing up, I vividly remember how many times the mothers in my neighbourhood would give up their comfort to just sit on their window sills and watch over their children as they played.
To us children then, it was a bad thing because it meant we could not be naughty or even do any mess on our clothes as we played. This perhaps stemmed from a desire to win the admiration of our mums in the presence of other mothers. They would literally chat with each other, from one window sill to the other, across the block of flats.
It felt heavenly to have one’s mother comment or better still mothers of your peers shout out at your mother, stating how beautiful or well-behaved or orderly one of us was. And it was no mean feat for us to outpace each other at being good in the presence of our mothers just to get the much esteemed attention.
I have noticed that my son has been somehow following in my footsteps, albeit a little slower. It helps to note that he holds my thoughts in high esteem. This helps me in shaping his future. According to a biblical verse I read many years ago, t it is easy to know a child’s heritage by observing his behaviour as a grown up. The Bible also states that a good tree can not bear bad fruit. Just as a good parent cannot raise a disrespectful child.
I am yet to meet a parent who looks forward to be considered a bad example to her child. But I have also seen parents who have given their best to their children, only for the latter to turn out to be something the parents never expected. As I nurse both my ever growing pregnancy and my ever-demanding son, I pray that his will be a story with a good ending.
In my own way, I intend to give my best shot at the parenting responsibilities bestowed upon me by God. In fact I have purposed, as a resolution, to invest in these children, not just in monetary terms, but also in terms of time, giving love and friendship.
Of course, I realise that whatever you get is a direct reaping of whatever investment you have put in.The product is a clear display of the type of parent one is.
Perhaps this reality comes into play as I sit in front of a television set. In his innocence, Tebogo does not understand why I do not wheel him around anymore. He looks at me enquiringly but says nothing – considering that his vocabulary is not yet well formed. His demand is notwithstanding my bulging tummy or now fragile body.
Take yesterday for example – the two of us were whiling away our time preparing potatoes. I was also mentally engrossed in fashion involving bulging and very pregnant women.
Out of nowhere, my son calls out ever so lovingly. With the most tender touch, he placed his small hands on my tummy saying, ‘’mummy timat’’. For lovers of language in the land of baby-language, this means mummy is smart.
Nothing in the world would beat that feeling of knowing that my son gives me high esteem. This happens even when I don’t think so of myself.
With tears in my eyes, I lifted him to my bosom and gave him the loveliest of hugs, knowing that he makes my days worth living – in and out of season.
This is to all the women who found themselves pregnant with children of war as a result of rape during the 1994 Rwanda Genocide; children whom they otherwise love and who have a role to play in peace-building. Now and in the future.
END: BL 40/48